


Nice Boots

by GloriaMundi



Category: Peter Pan (2003), Pirates of the Caribbean
Genre: C17, Crack, Crossover, Historical, M/M, Pirates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-07-09
Updated: 2004-07-09
Packaged: 2017-10-05 18:58:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/45031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GloriaMundi/pseuds/GloriaMundi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two pirates walk into a bar ...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nice Boots

"Nice boots, mate. Crocodile skin?"

"What if they are?"

"Frightfully big crocodile," observed Jack, twisting in his seat to get a better look at his tablemate's elegantly-shod feet. "Monstrous, you might say. Killed it yourself, I expect?"

A sigh. "Yes."

"What'd you use, mate? A siege-gun?"

"This."

There was a loud cracking noise, and Jack blinked at the steel hook embedded in the thick oak table, a finger's-breadth from his own hand. "Fascinating," he said brightly. "Well, I'd better --"

"I cared not whether I lived or died," said the other man. "Not after the one I loved left me for another. "

"Women, huh?" said Jack, settling himself again. "Fickle-minded flibbertigibbets, the lot of them."

"She was the least of it," said the man with the hook. "A pretty little thing -- quite adorable, in her way! -- but my heart hardened towards her when she told me she loved the _Boy_."

Jack could hear the capitalisation. It was as clear as the contempt in the other man's voice.

"They dared to love each other instead of _me_." He narrowed his eyes at Jack. "Me, a dashing and handsome pirate captain, feared throughout the Spanish Main. And she chose a mere child. Mayflies, both of them!"

"Sorry to hear that," said Jack. "Had a similar spot of bother meself, quite recently. Of course, she'll change her mind sooner or later. They all do."

"Really?" said the other, raising a disdainful eyebrow.

"Of course, mate! I'm Captain Jack Sparrow!"

"How charming," said the man across the table. "Captain James Hook, at your ... er ... service."

The two eyed one another warily. James Hook saw a ragged tatterdemalion, all gipsy-dark skin and glittery gold smile: his eyes were limned, rather clumsily, with kohl, and there were beads and trinkets in his hair, like a Red Indian's. It was impossible to guess his age. Any minute now, no doubt, he'd produce a dog-eared deck of cards and offer to tell Hook his future. His dark, hopeless future.

Jack Sparrow saw a pretty gallant, as fine-skinned as Will Turner (though he must be near as old as Jack), with his moustache curled just so and his beard oiled like a Spanish grandee's. He'd done well for himself, this Hook; done well, or been lucky. Boots of scarlet crocodile-hide: fancy clothes, dyed to match if Jack was any judge: a hat with a very nice feather. And that fine shiny hook hadn't come cheap: gleaming and honed and edged like the best Spanish steel, it was.

"So what's the story with this bonnie lass of yours?" Jack enquired, casually leaning back out of range of the hook.

Hook stared wistfully off into the distance. "She'd run away from home," he said.

"Now _there's_ a coincidence," began Jack.

"Mine was a true story-teller. Such marvellous tales she told! Tales of magic and misdeed, dashing heroes, wicked relatives and hidden treasures. Of course ..." Hook paused, finger raised to his lips as though arrested by a sudden thought. "Of course, she had a romantic streak. So many of them do, I find. Girls, that is."

"Mine was just the same," Jack offered, gesturing with his tankard. "Amazing stories, but she was only interested in the ones that ended with a kiss."

"Girls!" Hook growled. "I tried to tell her that it didn't have to be that way, but she wouldn't believe me. And then she ran off."

"With the Boy," said Jack cautiously. "No respect for maturity and experience."

"No," said Hook, polishing an imagined speck from the gleaming steel of his prosthetic. "No respect at all." He took another swig of his rum. "Old!" he exclaimed: it was almost a howl. "He called me old!"

"Seems to me you're in the prime of life," said Jack consolingly, gesturing the lass behind the bar to bring more rum. "Like myself."

Hook looked him up and down, doubtfully. Jack leered, and the other man sniffed.

"You have a ship, Captain Sparrow?"

"I command the _Black Pearl_," said Jack, with justifiable pride. "And yourself?" he added politely.

"I'm in the market," said Hook moodily.

"Mutiny?" said Jack. "Let me tell you, it can happen to the --"

"The Boy," snarled Hook. "I wanted to be ... friends, let us say. But he -- and that perfidious girl! -- took my crew captive and threw me to the crocodile."

"Too young to know what he wanted, I'd say." Jack nodded sagely. "So the young man made off with your ship and your wench --"

"Oh, she was no wench," said Hook. "Far, far worse. She was a _lady_."

"My sympathies, mate," said Jack. "They're the worst of all."

"They watched as the beast devoured me," said Hook, and Jack would've sworn that his eyes glowed in the gloom like a cat's. "They watched and they cheered as I was swallowed down, ne'er to see the light again."

Jack waited patiently, but Hook seemed gripped by some inner vision.

"And then?" he prompted at last.

"Then, Captain Swallow --"

Jack held up a finger. "It's Sparrow, actually," he corrected.

"-- then I tore my way out from the belly of the beast," declaimed Hook, brandishing the bright steel weapon that gleamed where his right hand had once been. "It took me _days_," he confided in a low voice, leaning close. "The vile beast simply wouldn't die. And when I was rebirthed into the sunlight, there on the empty sea, there was not a sail in sight!"

"Run off without a thought, huh? Well, Will did the exact --"

"He said I was _old_," Hook complained bitterly, with a dramatic gesture that Jack filed away for future use. "Do I look old to you?"

"Certainly not," said Jack, almost cross-eyed with sincerity. It wouldn't do to end up filleted by that hook. "Anyway, I reckon you're only as old as the person you feel."

"I feel _centuries_ \--"

"Nah, mate. You're not listening. _Feel_, that's the secret. You need to get up close and personal with a person who's in the bloom of youth." Jack leered reflexively. "Then the person you're feeling will make you feel younger. Maybe some of that bloom'll rub off on you, if you take my meaning. And it'll perk you up no end."

Hook looked at him woefully. "You mean to say that I should seek the company of a ... a young _lady_?"

"You won't find one of them in here, mate," said Jack, laughing heartily. "Though there's a most amenable bit o' stuff, name of Giselle, just come in." He nodded in the direction of the door. Best not to be too obvious about it, in case she noticed him.

Hook frowned, and shook his head. "I have forsworn love!" he declared.

Jack snorted. "Love's got nothing to do with it, mate."

"And women. Perfidious creatures, one and all."

Jack could recognise a circular conversation when it came around for the second time. And he could see definite advantages to being on the good side of this wealthy -- and really rather handsome, if woebegone -- pirate captain.

"Well, Captain," he said, gazing at Hook warmly from half-lidded eyes, "there's more to pleasurable company than a few silly girls."

\- end -


End file.
